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I UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. | 



iS 




LEVI HANFOKD 



N A R M A T I V E 



LIFE AND ADVENTURES 



I>EVI llANFORD, 



SOLDIER OF THE REVOLUTION. 



CHAHLES I.' BUSIINFLL 







NEW YORK; ^' 



PRI VA-'^KI^V FUINTK.D. 

1863. 
t 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by 

CHARLES I. BUSHNELL, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the 

Southern District of New York. 



INTRODUCTION. 




ERT few of tlio present generation ap- 
preciate the sufferings and sacrifices 
which were made by our forefathers in 
t!ie war of the Kevolution. While wc 
enjoy the blessings which have descend- 
ed to us, we little think of the immense cost at which 
they have been obtained. Tiiose gallant, patriotic men, 
to whose noble and unselfish cflbrts we owe our present 
happiness and prospcritj', are eminently w-orthy, and 
ought ever to receive our warmest admiration, gratitude 
and love. 

It is for the purpose of perpetuating the memory of 
one of these noble soldiers that the following memoir is 
printed. Serving through the entire period of the war 
(if the Revolution, it was his lot to endure more hard- 
ships and privations than is usual to fall to the lot of 



IV INTRODUCTION. 

man. Although the trials he met with wove many and 
severe, j-ct he bore them all with patience and fortitude, 
contenting himself with the patriotic reflection that his 
loss would be his country's gain. 

In the following narrative will bo found a particular 
account of the dangers he passed through and the suf- 
ferings he endured. Known too long and too well ever 
to be charged with or even suspected of the least ap- 
proach to duplicity or deception, every reliance can be 
placed upon the truth of the statements it contains. 

In the Appendix are added some explanatory notes, 
elucidating the text, to which the attention of the read- 
er is directed. In conclusion, wo would here express 
our acknowledgments to William B. Hanford, Esq., the 
son of the subject of the memoir, for the materials from 
which the present pamphlet has been compiled. 




X A R R A r 1 \- !•: . 




EVI IIAXFORD was the son of Levi 
IliinforJ, (') a respectable fanner of 
Xorwallc, (■) Connecticut ; ami the 
maiden name of his mother was 
Elizabeth Carter. They were the 
owners of good farms and mills. They were pious 
Christians, sincere and devout, and were, for many 
years preceding their deatli, strict members of the 
Baptist Clnircli. Mv. IlanforJ was a man of gooii 
mind, but of a quiet and domestic turn. He was 
the lineal descendant of Rev. Thomas Ilanford.C") 
a Congregational clergyman, who emigrated to this 
country from England about the year 1G42, and set- 
tled in Norwalk, where he was, for some forty years, 
the established minister. 



6 XAKRATIVE. 

The subject of this memoir w;is born in Norwalk, 
on tiie 19th day of September, 1759. He had two 
brothers, one older and the other younger than 
himself. His eldest brother, Ebenezer, had poor 
health during much of bis life. His youngest 
brother, John, upon arriving at sufficient age, 
enlisted in the Continental service, in which he 
remained to the termination of the war. He 
was engaged in some of the hardest-fought bat- 
tles of the Revolution, and was cousidered a good 
soldier. He was brave and determined, and thor- 
oughly reliable, and was therefore generally one of 
those who were selected when any important or 
daring duty was to be performed. There were two 
sisters in the family ; Polly, the youngest of whom, 
died at an early age. Elizabeth, the eldest sister, 
married Capt. Isaac Keeler,(') who served in the 
Continental army to the termination of the war. 

There was little in the early history of Levi 
Hanford worthy of record. The days of his child- 
hood and youth were mainly spent at school, or 
Avith his father, on the farm, or in the mill. The 
advantages for education in those days, aa compared 
with the present time, were, at the best, but very 



NARRATIVE. i 

limited. Schools and acadeniics were but few and 
far apart, and there being but very few public 
libraries, access to books was extremely diflicult. 
Even among the literary and wealth.y, the supply 
was but meagre. In addition to this, the troubles 
with the mother country broke in upon and entirel}' 
disarranged, if not destroyed, what little organiza- 
tion had before existed. It is not, therefore, to be 
wondered at that young Hanford, who like many 
otliers of that day, could only attend school during 
the winter months, being engaged in the summer 
and autumn in the occu[)ations of the farm, made 
but slow progress in his studies, and that his early 
education was, therefore, but very limited. This 
loss, however, he afterwards retrieved to a great 
extent by constant study, and by reading and con- 
versation acquired considerable general knowledge, 
so much so that he became, in after life, somewhat 
noted for his acquirements and general intelligence. 
Although the mental training of young Hanford 
was deficient, this was not the case with his moral 
education. Brought up under the constant eye of 
his parents, who were eminently [lious and devout, 
he received cverv attention, and under their care- 



O NARRATIVE. 

ful teachings and guided by their example, he early 
acquired those moral and religious principles which 
laid the foundation of his character, and governed 
his acts through life. Towards his parents, his 
thoughts were often turned in after j'ears, as well 
as in youth, holding and cherishing for them always 
the strongest attachment, and never alluding to or 
speaking of them but with the most reverent affec- 
tion and regard. 

Among the prominent traits which distinguished 
young Hanford from his comj^anions, were his un- 
tiring perseverance and energy of character, enab- 
ling him to overcome and triumph over obstacles 
at which most men would stand appalled . Although 
possessed of courage that was equal to any emer- 
gency, yet in his disposition he was humane and 
charitable, in his intercourse modest and unassum- 
ing, and in his bearing meek, gentle, and conciliat- 
ing. In addition to these qualities, he was endow- 
ed by nature with a remarkable degree of coolness 
and self possession which seldom, if ever, forsook 
him even under the most trying circumstances. 

In the month of September, 1775, Hanford arrived 
at the age of sixteen, and was then eligible to per- 



NARRATIVE. 9 

form military duty and bear tlie hardships of the 
camp. The battles of Concord(') and Lexington(') 
had been fought, and the bravery and valor of the 
American soldier fully proved and substantiated. 
The glorious capture of Ticonderoga(') had taken 
place. That strong fortress, hitherto deemed im- 
pregnable, had been surprised and had fallen, and 
the name of Ethan Allen(°) and the praise of his 
Green Mountain boys(') was upon every tongue. 
The flower of the British army had been opposed, 
and Britisli pride had been more than humbled 
upon the bloody field of Bunker Hill("). Twice 
had those haughty red-coats advanced to the assault, 
and twice had they been, by raw militia, ignomini- 
ously repulsed. No wonder then that pride sat 
upon every face, that joy filled every heart, and that 
shouts of triumph rang through the excited land. 
Roused by the common feeling and stimulated 
by the example of those around him, but no more 
so than by the natural emotions of his own patri- 
otic heart, Hanford was not long idle. He soon 
shouldered his gun, and in the year 1776 became 
enrolled in a company of minute-men under the com- 
mand of his maternal uncle, Capt. John Carter("). 



10 NARRATIVE. 

He^\'as liable as one of snob to be called upon 
for service at a moment's notice, communicated 
sometimes b,y arranged signals, sucb as tbc ringing 
of bells, the firing of cannon, or the tap of the drum, 
and sometimes, in cases of extreme necessity, by 
expressmen, who rode at full speed in all directions 
to summon them forth. These minute-men would 
sally out, armed and equipped, all repairing to a 
common rendezvous as fast as they received the 
order, those going first who were first notified, and 
the others following and falling in the ranks as they 
arrived on the ground. His duties as a minute-man 
were to keep guard along the coast of Long Island 
Sound and its vicinity, to prevent the carrying on 
of illicit trade, the landing of Tories, Cow-boys(''), 
and others on expeditions of plunder, to arrest 
Tories and those who should attempt to join the 
British, and in general to be ready to repel the 
attack of any hostile party that might appear. — 
Such attacks were about that time very frequent, 
being generally made by squads who came from 
Long Island in whale-boats, who, after plundering 
and burning and destroying what they could, would 
then flee back to a place of safety before a sufficient 



NAKRATIVE. 1 1 

force could be collectcil to piiiiisli tlicir audacity. 
— In addition to this kind of service, volunteers 
were often called for, and Hanford would frequent- 
ly enlist, sometimes for a few months, but oftener 
for still shorter periods. In the spring of the year 
17T(>. he wiih others was sent under the command 
of General Lee("), for a few weeks' service, to New 
York, to defend that city against an anticipated 
attack from the enem}-. Upon bis arrival, be was 
one of a detachment of men that was sent to Gov- 
ernor's Island(") for the purpose of breaking ground 
there, and erecting fortifications. It was on a dark 
and stormy night. Guards were placed around the 
Island to keep a look-out for danger and prevent 
surprise. Some British men-of-war were lying oif 
in the harbor. They mistrusted that there was 
something going on upon the Island, and had ac- 
cordingly sent off their small boats to reconnoitre. 
These reconnoitering parties would row up as near 
to the shore as the)' dared, and when they came 
within hailing distance, the sentinel on shore would 
hail them, and receiving no answer, would fire upon 
them, upon which the crew would immediately haul 
off, and make their appearance at some other place, 



12 NARRATIVE. 

when the same results would again follow. In this 
manner the night was spent. On the following 
morning the men were withdrawn from the Island, 
and in the evening they were again returned to it 
and the work resumed. He was engaged in tliis 
manner during his staj' in New-York, which lasted 
only about one month, at the expiration of which 
time he left the city and returned to his home. 

In the month of October, 1776, Hanford enlisted 
in a troop of horse, commanded by Captain Seth 
Seymour("), whose duty it was to guard and pro- 
tect the sea-coast. 

On the thirteenth day of March, 1777, he together 
with twelve others of the troop, was detached as a 
guard and stationed at South Norwalk, Connecticut, 
at a place then called " Old Well." The night was 
dark and the weather inclement, and the officers in 
consequence, negligent in their duties. In the 
course of the evening they were entirely surround- 
ed b}' a part)' of British and Tories, from Long Is- 
land, who came over in whale-boats, and tlie vvhole 
guard were taki n prisoners, poor Hanford among 
the rest, he being at that time but an ignorant boy, 
a little over seventeen years of age("). 



NAURATIVE. 13 

The prisoners were conve3'od across the Sound 
to Huntington,(") from there to Flushing(") and 
thence to Xew-York. Upon their arrival in the city 
of New-York, they were incarcerated in the old 
Sugar House prison in Crown, now Libertj^-street, 
near the Dutch CImrch, at that time used as a ri- 
ding-school for the Britisli light horse, but of late 
years converted to, and still used as the General 
City Post Office("). 

The old Prison, which is now torn down, was a 
brown stone building, six stories high, — but the 
stories were very low, and the windows small and 
deeply set, making it very dark and confined. It; 
was originally built for a sugar refinery, and had 
been previously used as such. Attached to it was 
a small yard, and the whole was enclosed by a high 
board fence, so that the general appearance of the 
building was extremelj' gloomv, and prison-like('"°). 

Upon our entrance into this miserable abode, says 
Hanford, we found some forty or fifty prisoners, all 
of whom were in a most wretched, emaciated and 
starving condition. The number of these poor 
sufferers was constantly being diminished by sick- 
ness and death, and as constantly increased b}' the 



14 NARRATIVE. 

accession of new prisoners to the number of four 
hundred to five hundred. Our allowance of provi- 
sions was a scanty supply of pork and sea-biscuit — 
so scanty that the quantity would be far from keep- 
ing a well man in strength. The food, moreover, 
was anything else than of a healthy character.^ — 
The pork was old and unsavorj', and the biscuit 
was such as had been wet with sea-water, and be- 
ing damaged, was full of worms and A^ery mouldy. 
It was our common practice to put water into our 
camp-kettle, then break up the biscuit into it, and 
after skimming off the worms, to put in the pork, 
and then, if we had fuel, to boil the whole together. 
The indulgence of fuel was allowed to us only part 
of the time. On occasions when it was precluded, 
we were compelled to eat our meat raw and our 
biscuit dry. Starved as we were, there was noth- 
ing in the shape of food that was rejected, or that 
was unpalatable. 

Crowded together within our narrow abode, with 
bad air to breathe, and such food to eat, it was not 
strange that disease and pestilence should prevail, 
and that too of the most malignant character. I 
had not been long confined before I was taken with 



\ 



NARRATIVE. 15 

the small pox, and conveyed to the small pox hos- 
pital("). Fortunately, I had but a slight attack, 
and was soon enabled to return to the prison. — 
During ray confinement, however, I saw cases of 
the most malignant form, several of my companions 
dying in that building of that liorrible disease. — 
When I came back to the prison, I found that others 
of our company had been taken to the different 
hospitals, there to suffer and die, for few of them 
were ever returned. I remained in the prison for 
a while, until from bad air, confinement, and un- 
healthy diet, I was again taken sick, and conveyed 
to the Quaker Meeting Hospital, so called from its 
having been used as a place of worship by Chris- 
tians of that denomination("). 

I became iusensible soon after my arrival, and 
the time passed b)' unconsciously untill I began 
slowly and by degrees to recover my liealth and 
strength, and was then permitted to exchange once 
more the hospital for the prison. 

Upon my return to the Sugar House, I found that 
during my absence, the number of my companions 
had become still further reduced by sickness and 
death, and that those who survived were in a most 



16 NARRATIVE. 

pitiful condition. It was really heart-rending to 
see those poor fellows, who but a short time before 
were in the bloom of health, now pale and thin, 
weak and emaciated, sail and desponding, and appa- 
rently very near their final end. While the poor 
prisoners were tlius pining away by degrees, an in- 
fluence was constantly exerted to induce them to 
enter the Tory regiments. Although our suffer- 
ings were intolerable, and although we were urged 
to embrace the British cause bj^ those who had 
been our o\vu townsmen and neighbors, and had 
themselves joined the Royal ranks, yet the instances 
were very rare that they could induce any one of 
those sufferers to hearken to their persuasions. — 
So wedded were they to their principles, so dear to 
them was their countr}', so true were they to their 
honor, that rather than sacrifice them, they pref'ei'- 
red the scoffs of their persecutors, the horrors of 
their dungeon, and in fact, even death itself. 

On one occasion, I heard a great noise and up- 
roar in the prison, accompanied b}* loud cursea and 
threats of vengeance. Upon inquiry, I learned 
that the guard had been stoned while at his post 
of duty, and that the prisoners were charged with 



NARRATIVE. 17 

the oftence. This act having been repeated on one 
or two subsequent occasions, the British Comman- 
der at length came into the prison 3'ard with a body 
of men. He questioned the prisoners very closely, 
but could elicit nothing that would implicate any 
one. He then told the prisoners that if the act 
was again committed, and the aggressor not reveal- 
ed, the guard should fire upon the prisoners, when 
the innocent would suffer with the guilty. The 
following day, while I was standing in the prison 
yard, I saw a person come to a third-story window 
of a neighboring house, and partially concealed be- 
hind a chimney, waited until the sentry on duty 
had turned his back and was marching from him, 
when stepping from his place of concealment so as 
to get the full use of his arm, he hurled a brick bat 
at the sentry, striking him in the back, and injuring 
him severely. The guard were in an instant turned 
out and marched to the prison yard. The gates 
were thrown open, and the guard stood ready to 
fire. There was now no time to be lost, so I at 
once communicated what I had seen. The gates 
were thereupon closed, and the guard marched to 
the building where the man had appeared. After 



18 NARRATIVE. 

a terrible uproar, with loud sweariug and cursing, 
the guard at length retired with one or two pris- 
oners in their custodj'. What became of them I 
never knew. Nothing concerning them was ever 
revealed to us. However, there were no more com- 
plaints made, after this, of the stoning of the sentry. 
The sentries, as a bod}', were not only ungener- 
ous and uncivil, but unfeeling and tyrannical, and 
committed many acts of wilful, wanton cruelty. — 
They considered anything short of death, to rebels, 
as humanity. This feeling was far more prevalent 
among the British than among the Hessians ; and 
hence, when the prisoners desired any favors, they 
deferred asking for them until the latter had the 
guard, which was two days out of every five. Occa- 
sionally, a humane man was on duty, but he was re- 
strained from obeying his natural impulses through 
fear of tlie official power above him. The orders 
under which they acted were absolute and impera- 
tive, and a disobedience of command or a derelic- 
tion of duty were sure to be followed by severe 
and immediate punishment. I shall never forget a 
striking instance of this which occurred during my 
captivity here. 



NARKATIVK. I'J 

In the prison yard there was a large bar of pig- 
i ron, which the prisoners, for pastime, would amuse 
themselves b^- throwing, and their contests for 
superiority would often be attended by considera- 
ble excitement. One day, while they were thus 
engaged, the sentry on duty, a stout, good natured 
man, after gazing for some time upon tlie perform- 
ances of the prisoners, became at length emulous 
of their eflbrts, and, upon the impulse of the mo- 
ment, ventured to enter the list and compete with 
them. Laying down his gun, he made one trial, and 
coming but little short of the best of them, was 
encouraged to try again. Tlirowing off his cart- 
ridge box and bayonet, he again grasped the bar, 
and though he did better than before, yet he still 
fell short. Stimulated by his success, and deter- 
mined to gain his point, he now threw off his stock 
and coat. At this instant, an officer suddenly came 
in, and noticing the condition of the sentinel, said 
to him in a stern, authoritative tone, " Walk this 
tvciTj, sir." They left the prison together, and we 
learned that for this breach of duty, the sentinel 
was sentenced to run the gauntlet and receive three 
hundred lashes. 



20 NARRATIVE. 

On the following day, a company of men were 
drawn up in double line, facing each other, and in 
full view from the prison. Each man stood a little 
from bis neighbor, and each was armed with a raw 
hide. "When everything was ready, all the drum- 
mers of the regiment, beating the long roll("), enter- 
ed the lines, followed by an officer, with a drawn 
sword under his arm, the point turning backward. 
Then followed the prisoner, having nothing on but 
his breeches, and behind him came another officer 
with a drawn sword. As the prisoner passed 
through the lines, each man in succession gave him 
a severe blow with his raw hide. After he had 
passed, he then had to turn back again and retrace 
his steps, and thus walk up and down until the 
whole number of lashes was given. On the outside 
of each line an officer marched opposite the pris- 
oner, and if any act of favor was shown, or if any 
man gave the prisoner a less forcible blow than he 
could have done, the officer would strike him so 
severely with the flat of his sword that he would 
almost bring him to the ground. 

Under this dreadful trial the prisoner at first 
walked firmly and erect, but he soon began to 



NARRATIVE. 21 

queck and drodp, tlion to writlic aiul coiivnlso, until 
at length bis lacerated body was thrown into con- 
tortions, and was litcrail}' streaming with bloo'l. — 
Sometimes he would receive ablo^v upon his breast, 
then upon his back, and then upon his head or legs, 
according as iiis body happened at the time to be 
I^laced. Tlie scene was one of most barbarous 
cruelty, and ended, as might well be supposed, in 
the miserable death of the poor, offending sentinel. 
Notwithstanding the sufferings we endured, and 
the rigorous treatment to which we were subjected 
in the prison, we were not without some friends 
and sympathizers. Among these, there was a ladv, 
a Mrs. Spicer, who resided in the city, and wlio was 
a warm friend to the cause of liberty. She took a 
deep and lively interest in the condition of the 
prisoners, and visited the hospitals and prisons 
almost daily. She was esteemed by tlie prisoners 
as a mother, and lier visits anxiously looked for, 
and received, always, wAh a warm and hearty wel- 
come. She came, Tiot alone, with the clear, mild 
sunshine. She came with the howling storm, and 
the whistling wind, and the pelting rain. The risk 
of contagion and death, even, could not deter her 



22 NARRATIVE, 

from her noble, saint-like mission. She came as a 
ministering aagel, comforting the sick, sympathiz- 
ing with the distressed, and performing many acts 
of kindness and mercy. 

What became of her, or where she lived, I never 
could learn. I made many efforts, after the war, 
to ascertain, but never with success. Although 
she has long since passed away, and her acts were 
unknown to public ear, yet many a poor prisoner 
has poured forth his blessings upon her. The 
memory of that stranger's kindness will live in 
many a heart until life's last pulse shall cease to 
beat. Her deeds of mercy, though unrequited 
here, have not been lost. They have been record- 
ed in a higher sphere, where she will receive a 
great and glorious reward. 

I remained in the prison until the twenty-fourth 
day of October, when the names of a company of 
prisoners, mine among the rest, were taken down. 
We were informed that the time had arrived for us 
to return to our homes. We became, at once, ela- 
ted at the prospect of a speedy release. Our feel- 
ings immediately started up from the depths of 
despair. We joyfully drew our weekh' provision. 



NAnRATIVE. 23 

and cheerfully divided it among our starving asso- 
ciates, from whom we were so soon to take our 
leave. But, alas ! little did we dream what a cruel 
destiny was in store for us. How bitter, how ag- 
gravating to us was tlu:". disappointment when we 
found that, instead of being returned to our homes, 
we were to be removed only to undergo still fur- 
ther torments. We were put on board the prison- 
ship Good Intent("), then lying in the North River, 
and reported there with one week's provisions. 

The scene of starvation and suffering that follow- 
ed, it is impossible to conceive, much less to des- 
cribe. Crowded together as we were with over 
two hundred in the hold of the ship, the air was 
exceedingly foul, close, and sickening. Everything 
■was eaten that could possibly appease hunger. — 
From these and other causes, and enfeebled as we 
had become, and reduced as we were by famine, no 
wonder that pestilence in all its fury began to sweep 
us down. To such an extent did this prevail that 
in less than two months' time our number was re- 
duced by death to scarcely one hundred. In addi- 
tion to all this we were treated with the utmost 
severity and barbarity. Even the smallest indul- 



24 NAREATIVE. 

gence was naost rigidly denied. In the month of 
December following, the river began to freeze, 
when, fearing some of the prisoners might escape 
upon the ice, the ship was moved round to the 
Wallabout, where lay also the Jerss}', another pri- 
son-ship of horrific memory, whose rotted hulk still 
remained, till within a few years past, to mark the 
spot where thousands of brave and devoted martyrs 
j'ielded up the precious offering of their lives, a 
sacrifice to British cruelty("). 

Here again, I became sick, and my name was 
again taken down for the hospital. The day before 
New Year's, the sick were brought out, and placed 
in a boat to be conveyed to the city. The boat 
had lost a piece of plank from her bottom, but the 
aperture was filled up with ice ; we were taken in 
tow and proceeded on our course. The motion of 
the water soon caused the ice to loosen, and our 
boat began to leak. We had gone but a short dis- 
tance when the sailors inquired " tvhefher we leak- 
ed.''' Our men, either from pride, or from an un- 
willingness to betray fear, replied, " hut u mere 
trifle.''' The sailors, however, soon perceived our 
increased weight. They pulled hard for a while. 



NARRATIVE. 25 

aud then lay to until wo came np witli theni. Our 
boat was at that time half filled witli water. AVlien 
the sailors perceived our condition, they vented 
their curses upon us, and with horrid oaths aud 
imprecations, pulled for the nearest dock, shouting 
for help. When the boat reached her destination, 
she struck level with the w-ater, and we were com- 
pelled to bold on to the dock and to a small boat 
by our side, to prevent her from sinking. 

It being low water, the sailors reached down 
from the dock, aud clenching our hands, drew us up 
in our turu. I well remember that I was drawn up 
b}' them_with such violence that the skin was taken 
from my chest and stomach. One poor fellow, who 
was unable to sit up, we had to haul upon the gun- 
nel of the boat to keep his head out of water. Not- 
withstanding this, he still got wet, and died in a 
few minutes after he was placed on shore. 

From the boat we were taken to the Hospital in 
Beekman-street, known as Dr. Rogers', afterwards 
Dr. Spring's Brick Meeting House("). While pass- 
ing through the yard, 1 took up one end of a bunk 
from which some person had just been taken, dead. 
I carried it into the church, and threw myself upon 



26 NARRATIVE. 

it, perfectly exhausted and overcome. Tlie head 
nurse of the hospital, passing by, saw and j^itied 
my situation. She made me some warm tea, and 
pulling oS the blankets from the poor, sick Irish, 
i-egardless of their curses and complaints, piled 
them upon me until I began to sweat profusely, 
and fall asleep. 

The females who acted as nurses in the hospitals 
were many, perhaps most of them, the wives of Brit- 
ish soldiers. Although thej' committed no designed 
acts of cruelty, yet many of them showed in their 
treatment of us much indifference and neglect. 

When I awoke in the morning, some mulled wine 
and water was given to me. Wine and some other 
things were sent to the sick by our government. — 
As for the British, they furnished nothing. After 
taking the wine, I became refreshed. I lay perfectly 
eas}', and free from pain. It seemed to me that I 
had never been so happy before in my life, and yet 
I was still so weak that I could not have risen from 
my bunk unaided even though it had been to "save 
the vniou."* The doctor in attendance was an 
American surgeon, who had been taken prisoner. 

* This was Haotbrd's own esiiression. 



NARRATIVK. 'J i 

lie liail l)i>on taken fVoin tlic [irison and transforred 
ti) tlio liiispital to attend the sick. Upon examin- 
ing nil', liij told me that my blood was breaking- 
down and turning to water, from the effect of the 
small pox, and that I needed some bitters. I gave 
liini wiiat money I had, and he prepared me some, 
and when tiiat was gone, he was good enough to 
supply me some more at his own expense. Under 
his kind treatment and professional skill, I began 
slowly, and b}' degrees, to regain my strength, and 
in course of time, was once more able to walk about. 
Wliile standing, one day, in the montii of May, 
by the side of the churdi, in the warm sun, my toes 
began to sting and pain me excessively. I showed 
them to the surgeon when he came in, and he laid 
them open. They had been frozen, and the flesh 
had become so wasted away that only the bone and 
the tough skin remained. I had, in consequenc 
of my feet, to remain in the hospital fur a long 
time, and of all places, tiiat hospital was least to be 
coveted. Disease and death reigned there in all 
their terror. I have had men die by the side of me 
in the night, and have seen fifteen dead bodies, at 
one time, sewed uj) in their blankets and laid in the 



28 NARRATIVE. 

corner of the yard, the product of one twenty-four 
Lours. Every morning, at eight o'clock, the dead 
cart came, and the bodies of those who had died the 
day previous were thrown in. The men drew the 
rations of rum to which. they were entitled, and the 
cart was driven off to the trenches of the fortifica- 
tions, where they were hastily covered, I cannot 
say interred. 

On one occasion, I was permitted to go with the 
euard to the place of interment, and never shall I 
forget the scene that I there beheld. The}- tum- 
bled the bodies promiscuously into the ditch, some- 
times even dumping them from the cart, then threw 
upon them a little dirt, and away they went. I 
could see a hand here, a foot there, and there again 
a part of a head, washed bare by the rain, and all 
swollen, blubbering, and falling to decay. I need 
not add that the stench was anything but toler- 
able ("). 

The use of my feet having become restored to 
me, I was again returned to the prison in Liberty- 
street, and from this time forward, I enjoyed com- 
fortable health to the close of my imprisonment, 
which took place in the mouth of May following.— 



NARRATIVE. 29 

Olio (Iny, wliile I was staiuling in the yard, near 
the liigli board fence which enclosed tlie prison, a 
man passed by, in tlio street, and coming close to 
tlio fence, witiiout stopping or turning liis luMd, 
said in a low voice, " General liurgotjne is taken 
ic'itli all his armij. It is a truth. You may clejtend 
upon !7."('') Shut out, as we were, from all infor- 
mation, and all knowledge of what was going on 
around us, this news was grateful to us indeed, and 
cheered us greatly in our wretched abode. Kept 
in entire ignorance of everything occurring beyond 
the confines of our miserable prison, we had been 
left to the most gloomy fears and forebodings as to 
the result of our cause. We knew not whether it 
was still progressing, or whether resistance liad 
ceased altogether. Of the [irobability of our gov- 
ernment being able to exchange or release us, we 
knew nothing. What little information we receiv- 
ed, and it was very little, was received only tlirough 
the exiiggerations of British soldiery, and could. 
therefore, be but very little rclit;d upon. How 
grateful tlien to us was the news which we had just 
heard — how sweet to our ears, how soothing to our 
hearts! It gave us the sweet consolation tiiat our 



30 NARRATIVE. 

cause was still triumphant, and cheered us with the 
hope of a speedy liberation. It is fortunate, how- 
ever, that our informant was not discovered, for if 
he had been, he would most probably have been 
compelled to have run the gauntlet, or to have lost 
his life for his kindness. 

One day, I think it was about the first of May, 
two officers came into the prison. One of them 
was a sergeant by the name of Wallyf"), who had, 
from some cause or other, and what 1 never knew, 
taken a deep dislike to me. The other was an offi- 
cer by the name of Blackgrove. They told us that 
there was to be an exchange of those prisoners who 
had been the longest confined, and thereupon they 
began to call the roll. A great many names were 
called to which no answers were given. Their 
owners had already been exchanged by that Being 
^vho has the power to set the captive free. Here 
and tiiere was one left to respond. At last my 
name was called. I attempted to step forward and 
answer, when Sergeant Wally turned, and frowning 
upon me with a look of demoniac fury, motioned 
me to fall back. I dared not answer, so all was 
still. Then other names were called. I felt that. 



NARRATIVE. 31 

live or die, now was the time to speak. I accord- 
ingly told officer Blackgrovc, that tliere were but 
eleven men present who had been longer in prison 
than myself. He looked at me, and then asked me 
why I did not answer when my name was called. 
I told him that I did attempt to answer, but Ser- 
geant Wally prevented me. He thereupon turned, 
and, looking at him with contempt, put down my 
name. Of the thirteen who bad been taken pris- 
oners in the month of March, 1777, only two now 
remained to be exchanged, mjself and one other('°). 
On the eighth day of May, 1778, we were released 
from our long confinement. Our persecutors, how- 
ever, had not yet done with us. Tliey, as if to 
trouble and torment us, took the Southern prison- 
ers oil" towards Boston to be discharged, while the 
Eastern prisoners were conveyed to Elizabethtown, 
in New Jersey^"). There they set us free. Upon 
our liberation, we proceeded at once to Newark. — 
Here, everything was clothed in the beaut}' of 
spring. The birds were singing merrily, and the 
whole face of nature smiled with gladness. We 
were so delighted, and in fact, so transported with 
pleasure, that we could not forbear rushing out 



32 NARRATIVE. 

and throwing ourselves upon the green grass, and 
rolling over it again and again. After a confine- 
ment of fourteen months iu a loathsome prison, 
clothed in rags and filth, and with associates too 
numerous and offensive to mention, this was to us 
a luxury indeed. 

Prom Newark("), we traveled on as fast as our 
enfeebled powers would permit. We crossed the 
Hudson at Dobb's Fen-y("), and here we began to 
separate, each for his own home. The ofiicers 
pressed horses and went on. My companion and 
myself were soon wending our way, slowly and 
alone. As we passed on, we saw in the distance 
two men riding towards us, each having with him 
a led horse. It did not take me long to discover 
the man on a well-known horse to be m}- father, 
and the other person to be the father of my com- 
rade. The meeting I will not here attempt to de- 
scribe, but from the nature of the case, you may 
well imagine that it was an affecting one, and more 
peculiarly so, as my friends had been informed some 
time before that I had died in prison. The} had 
had prayers oftered up, according to the custom of 
the time, and the family had gone into mourning("). 



NARRATIVE. 33 

They therefore felt as though they liad received 
me from the dead. It seems that the officers had 
carried the news of our return, and our friends had 
ridden all night to meet us. We proceeded on our 
way together, and ere the shades of evening had 
closed around us, we were once more in the bosom 
of friends, and enjoying the sweets of homo, and 
the society of those we loved. And may my heart 
ever rise in gratitude towards that Being whose 
preserving care has been over me, and who has 
never, never forsaken me. 

Hanford did not remain long idle after his return 
from imprisonment. As soon as he had regained 
his liealti), he resumed his musket, and partook 
once more of the hardships of the tented field. — 
He again took his position in Captain Seymour's 
company, and continued in the active performance 
of his duty to the termination of the war. He was 
present at the taking and burning of Norwalk, in 
Connecticut, and assisted in driving the British 
and Tories back to their shipping^'). At another 
time, he was one of a body of troops that was called 
out one cold winter night to repel a large British 
force that was advancing from Kingsbridge, forag- 



34 NARRATIVE. 

ing, marauding, and burning everything in their 
way("). The American army marched in two divi- 
sions, one taking the Post-Road, and the other a 
more circuitous route, and coming together at a 
designated place near the enemy. The night was 
excessively cold, and the army suffered greatly. — 
The detachment to which Hanford belonged, arrived 
first at the place of destination, and halted near a 
public house. Hanford, and a few others of his 
party, soon entered the house, and found their way 
to the fire. While they were engaged in warming 
themselves, an officer, whose name is not now re- 
collected, came in, chilled and shivering with cold, 
and placed his arms over Hanford's shoulders to 
warm his hands, which were quite stiff and benumb- 
ed. While thus engaged, he and Hanford were led 
to notice each other, and with a mutual half recog- 
nition. Soon after this, Hanford was stationed as 
a guard at the outer door of the house, and while 
performing this duty, the officer walked past him 
repeatedly, each time eyeing him closely. Finally, 
coming up to Hanford, he thus addressed him : — 
" Sir, I think I knoiv you. I recognize you as one 
of my fellow-jn'isoners of the old Sugar House Pri- 



NARRATIVE. 35' 

son in Netv-York. I tliouijlil I l-iiciv you when I 
first saic you. I was with you for a while in that 
den of human suffering." After a mutual greeting, 
he asked Hani'ord how he liked his present position, 
to which tlie latter replied that ho was not partic- 
ularly atiaclied to it. The ofTicer then asked him 
how he would like to take a ride. Being answered 
in the afliruuitivo, tlic officer then told him that he 
had letters and dispatches to the Secretary of 
State, at Ilartford("), Connecticut, and if he de- 
sired the trip, he would like him to go and deliver 
them. He told him, moreover, that he must fur- 
nish his own liorse, pay his own expenses, and 
when he had performed the duty, he must make 
liis report, when he should be re-imbursed and 
draw his pay. To tliis lianford readily assented. 
The duty was accordingly performed by him, after 
the return of the troops, and the trip to Hartford 
was a pleasant one. 

In the meantime, the troops passed on, and after 
several skirmishes, atid a running fight, the British 
were finally driven back across Kingsbridge. — 
About this time, a party of British and Hessians 
commenced the erection of a redoubt on the Har- 



36 NARRATIVE. 

lem river, and a body of men, of which Hanford 
was one, was sent to check their operations. The 
troops marched all night, intending to surprise the 
enemy, and make the attack at early dawn. They 
reached their destination before daylight, unob- 
served, and took a position from which they could 
rake the redoubt with their small arms, aided by 
one piece of artillery loaded with grape. In front 
of, and near the redoubt, was a vessel lying at the 
dock, loaded witli fascinesC"), a portion of which 
had already been landed. The Americans were 
hid from view when lying down, but when they 
arose, the whole scene was open before them. At 
daylight, a detachment of Hessian troops made its 
appearance, and soon came to the water for fascines. 
The Americans lay perfectly still until each Ues- 
sian soldier had shouldered his bundle, and was 
about to return to the fort, when the command was 
given in a loud tone of voice, " Attention, men — 
— ready — aim — tire !" Quick as thought, each man 
sprang to his feet, and a volley of musketry and a 
discharge of grape were poured in upon the enem}'. 
The scene that followed was ludicrous in the ex- 
treme. The enemy were taken completely by sur- 



NARKATIVE. 3 ( 

prise, and were terribly frighteued. In their con- 
fusion and terror, they tiirew down their bundles, 
and used every exertion to run. Although they 
jumped, and sprang, aud swung their arms, and 
made desperate strides, yet they seemed for a time 
to have lost all ability to move forward, for when 
one leg started in one direction, the other went off 
in one exactly opposite ; and it was only b}- the 
most desperate efforts of springing and jumping 
that they effected their escape. This they were at 
last enabled to do by reason of the river being be- 
tween them and their pursuers. The Americans, 
however, succeeded in carrying out the objects of 
the expedition. They destroyed the redoubt, made 
a prize of the vessel and cargo, and captured some 
prisoners. 

On another occasion, when a party of British and 
Tories came on an expedition of plunder and des- 
truction, Hanford was again called out, with others, 
to repel them. They met the enemy, and after a 
slight skirmish, succeeded in driving them back. 
The Americans pursued the retreating foe until 
tlie engagement became a running fight. The 
British finally made a stand in a favorable position, 



38 NARRATIVE. 

and when tlieir iiursuers came up, tliey found a 
rising ground before them, partially concealing the 
enemy from their view. A portion of the Americans, 
Hanford among them, passed over the ridge, amid 
a galling fire, the bullets flying among them thick 
as hail. Hanford soon found shelter behind a large 
rock, under cover of which he used his gun for 
some time with telling effect, till finally, in attempt- 
ing to load it, the cartridge stuck in the barrel, and 
in striving to force it down with his rod, he inad- 
vertently leaned back to gain more space, in doing 
which, a nart of his person became exposed to view. 
At that instant, a ball came whizzing by, just miss- 
ing his head, and looking up, he perceived a Brit- 
ish soldier in the act of dodging back to his covert. 
The Americans firmly maintained their ground, and 
finally bore off the honors of the day. They 
charged upon, and repulsed the enemy, who re- 
treated in confusion to their lines. 

After this, Hanford spent the remaining part of 
his term of service in guarding property, in repel- 
ling the invasions of the British and the Tories, 
and in peregrinate movements wherever his duty 
or the public exigency required, until the termi- 



NARRATIVE. 89 

ii:itir)ii of tlio war. In this manner, lie gave him- 
self up to the call of his coiintiT, evincing at all 
times, and upon all occasions, those traits of cha- 
racter, which, when found in hapi)y combination, 
form the true model of the Christian soldier. At 
the establishment of peace, he threw oil" the trap- 
pings of war, laid aside the implements of death, 
and sought once more the shades of private life. 

In the 3'ear 1782, Hauford was united in marriage 
to Miss Mary Mead,(") a lady of most amiable and 
exemplary character, witli wiimn ho liad long been 
acquainted, and who was the daughter of Gen. 
John Mead,(") of Horseneck,(") in Greenwich, (") 
Connecticut. Mr. Hanford, after his marriage, set- 
tled iu New Canaan, ('") then a parish of Norwalk, 
where he resided for more than twenty-five years^ 
During his residence in New Canaan, he went with 
his wife to Walton,(") Delaware County, Now York, 
on a visit to her brother and sister who had moved 
to that place. They performed the journey on 
horseback, the only mode of travel at that day. 
They traveled over bad roads, through woods, and 
fording deep and rapid streams. In the fall of the 
year 1807, he again visited Walton, but this time, 



40 NAKRATIVE. 

with the intention of purchasing a farm, and se- 
curing a residence. Upon his return, he sold his 
property in Connecticut, and on the twentieth day 
of March, 1808, with two wagons, loaded with goods, 
and his family of five sons and four daughters, he 
moved to Walton. The winter was past, the wea- 
ther warm and pleasant, and the traveling reason- 
ably good. After a toilsome journej' of sis days, 
the family arrived at their place of destination. 
They took possession of their plain, but comforta- 
ble home, a log house of ample accommodation, and 
soon became settled in their new abode. Here 
tliey remained, a happy and unbroken family, until 
the fifteenth day of September, 1847, when Mrs. 
Hanford closed her earthly pilgrimage, in the 88th 
year of her age, having lived with, and cheered the 
fireside of her husband for more than sixty-five 
years. 

In the early history of Walton, religious confer- 
ence meetings were held in the town every Thurs- 
day evening, under the superintendence of Deacon 
St. John.(") They were held at private houses, in 
alternate rounds. In these gatherings, Levi Han- 
ford took a warm and active part, generally lead- 



m 








JI[:>. II A \ Knit I ■ 



NARRATIVE. 41 

ing the meetings when Deacon St. JoRn was absent. 
These meetings exerted a great influence upon the 
neighborhood, and kept many from deviating from 
the paths of moral rectitude. To this day, there 
are many persons, now scattered over our country, 
who looic back to them as the source from which 
they derived much of their religious training. En- 
couraged by the clergy, and patronized by their 
occasional presence, the)' have been kept up for a 
period of nearly seventy years, although their lead- 
ers and principal snpporters have been changed 
several times by death or removal. 

In the month of January, 1852, an advertisement 
appeared in the New York Journal of Commerce, 
stating that the author, David Barker, Esq., of that 
city, had in his possession a cane, made from one 
of the beams of the Old Sugar House in Liberty 
street, and calling upon any surviving sufferer in 
that old prison, to send in his name that he might 
have the pleasure of presenting the relic to him as 
a support to his declining years. To this call, five 
only responded, disclosing the melancholy fact that 
of those prisoners, only five remained alive. Each 
of these applicants sent in his name, with a brief 



42 NARRATIVE. 

account of his imprisonment and sufferings. It ap- 
peared from these statements that Levi Hanford 
was confined the longest of the five, and was the 
youngest of the number when imprisoned. There 
being so manj' applicants for the cane, it was con- 
cluded to leave the choice to be determined by lot. 
When this decision was made known to Hanford, 
he at once gave up all hope of receiving it, saying 
that in all his life, he never had any fortune in 
chance operations. The drawing, however, came 
ofl', and the cane fell to Hanford. It was transmit- 
ted to him by a friend, and he received it in the 
ninety-fourth year of his age, with a deep feeling 
of pride and pleasure. So delighted was he with 
this memento of his early career, that he kept it 
alwaj^s near him, occasionally exhibiting it to those 
who visited him, and cherishing and preserving it 
to the day of his deatli. 

Mr. Hanford always took a deep and lively inter- 
est in his country's welfare. On the exciting sub- 
jects which so much affected the nation's well-being, 
he took sides with the Republicans. He was a 
strong opponent of the leading acts and measures 
of John Adams, and the party that elected him. 



NARRATIVE. 43 

Imt he was a warm friend and supporter of Thomas 
Jefterson, and his administration. His heart was 
with the Republicans in resisting the aggressive 
acts of Great Britain and France, in discardiiig 
their claimed right of search, and in opposing their 
Milan and Berlin decrees. He approved of the 
war of 1812, and the policy of Madison, and gave 
them his firm and steady support, and though age 
had placed him beyond the period of active duty 
himself, yet be gave three of his sons, all who were 
then of age, to the defence of that country, for 
which he himself had suffered so much, and which 
he had helped to establish. His two eldest sons 
were called to the Canadian frontier at Sackett's 
Harbor, and the younger to the defense of New 
York, when that city was threatened with an inva- 
sion. When peace was again restored, and the 
government strengthened and invigorated, and 
rendered more permanent by the ordeal through 
which it had passed, he rejoiced W'ith the joyful, 
gave thanks with the thankful, looking forward 
with true, patriotic pride to that enviable position 
which she would hereafter take among the nations 
of the earth — a higher, a brighter, a nobler posi- 



44 XAREATrVE. 

tion than she had heretofore attained. He gave 
his hearty and unwavering support to Andrew 
Jackson, and the measures of his administration, 
i-egarding him as a man far above the leading poli- 
ticians of his day, pure, honest and self-sacrificing, 
striving for the good of the country with a firm 
and fearless determination that allowed no claim, 
no interest, no obstacle whatever to swerve him 
from his duty. As a Democratic Republican, Hau- 
ford warmly and cheerfully espoused the general 
principles of that party, but when Texas was pre- 
sented for annexation, he felt that it was a measure 
which might end with disastrous results. He con- 
sidered it as detrimental to the public good, that 
it was not sought for through any real sympathy 
for Texas, but was urged solely with the view of 
opening a new field for the ingress of slaverj', and 
of increasing thereby the value of such property 
by increasing its demand. With Texas for a pre- 
cedent, he always feared that. annexation might be 
carried to a dangerous extent, and often remarked 
that if this Union was ever dissolved, the annexa- 
tion of Texas would bo the first link in the chain 
of events to bring it about. Though never an abo- 



NARRATIVE. 45 

litioiiist, ill the common accoptiition of the term, 
yet he was always opposed to shivery in every form, 
considering it as a disgrace to humanity, a blot 
upon the national character, and a withering curse 
upon those States where it existed. He was in 
favor of letting it die out gradually, as he consider- 
ed it would have done if the annexation policy had 
not given it new life bj' breathing into it an in- 
creased pecuniar}' interest. For these reasons he 
was opposed to all measures tending to the repeal 
of the ordinance of 1787, and of the Missouri Com- 
promise. He considered such measures equally 
detrimental to the interest and stability of our gov- 
ernment. When Congress was legislating upon 
the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, he took a 
deep and lively interest in its discussions, and his 
feelings became unusually excited. The subject 
was one that seemed to call out and develop all the 
energy of his earlier jears. One da)-, after he had 
received his paper, and had perused the congres- 
sional proceedings, he turned to his son, and with a 
look of deep and solemn earnestness, said : 

" William, 1 see clearly that they are determined to 
repeal the Missouri Compromise, and I believe they 



46 NARRATIVE. 

will do if. They seem determined to break down 
every harrier to the spread of slavery — those harriers 
which were estahlisked at the commencement of our 
government, and tchich have hitherto heen held as sa- 
cred as the Constitution itself. If," said he, " ruthless 
hands are to he laid tipon those sacred compacts, and 
those harriers to he hroTcen doicn, tramjyled upon, and 
destroyed, then icill the curse of slavery spread,— -then 
will tyranny and oppression reign triumphant o'er 
the land. Little, alas ! very little will ive have gained 
in ot(r Bevolutionary struggle, if these things come to 
pass. We endured privations — hinger, cold, toil and 
suffer ing to little purpose — toe gave our treasure — ive 
shed our Uood — tue gave our lives — all for naught, if 
these lines of demarlcation are to he disregarded, 
scorned and taken aioay. If those looi'se than parri- 
cides, tvere so hent upon sapping tlie foundation upon 
which our great and almost perfect government is 
founded, anil upmi ivhich its very life depends, wJiy, 
oh ! why could they not have waited a little longer, 
until the last of the old soldiers had passed away, and 
spared them the pain, the bitter mortification of ivit- 
nessing that noble structure tchich they sacrificed so 
mtich to rear, broken doivn and destrotjed, and the na- 



NARRATIVE. 47 

tion reeling and falling hack to that state of tyranny 
ivhich cost so miwh treasure and so much Hood to over- 
throir." 

Thus spoke that honest patriot, and as he closed, 
as if to give due emphasis to his remarks, he stamp- 
ed his foot upon the ground, while his tremulous 
voice and earnest look evinced the depth of the 
emotions that convulsed his heart. Oh ! could 
those political vampires have beheld that aged 
man, have seen his solemn and impressive mien, 
and heard his soul-inspiring words. Though sear- 
ed be their consciences, though obdurate be their 
hearts, that scene might have touched some tender 
chord, aroused .some latent principle to check those 
iffi^ pi' i t in pled legislators in their headstrong course 



of depravity and ruin. 

In his religious belief, Mr. Hanford was a frank 
and hearty supporter of the doctrines of the Bap- 
tist Church. Though fixed in his theology, yet he 
was no bigot. He was never arrogant or dogmati- 
cal, never narrow or illiberal. While he held bis 
own views with tenacity, he allowed others to do 
the same, and to hold theirs undisturbed. His 
heart was ever open in brotherly fellowship, and 



48 NARRATIVE. 

in all the relations of life, he ever manifested that 
true, humble, Christian spirit, of which any one 
might well be proud. He combined in his charac- 
ter the purity of a saint with the valor of a Roman, 
— a splendid model of the old Continental soldier, 
— a brave — a holy — " an honest man — the noblest 
work of God." 

But age was fast doing its work. A life of ac- 
tivity, of industry, of temperance, of virtue, had 
already extended his years far be3'ond the usual 
bound. At last, exhausted nature gave way, and 
on the nineteenth day of October, 1854, at his resi- 
dence in Walton, Delaware County, New York, 
in the ninety-sixth year of his age, he sank calmly 
to rest, 

" Calmly as to a night's repose, • -. 

Like flowers at set of sun." 

His remains were deposited by the side of his 
wife in the family cemeteiy at Walton, attended by 
a large circle of friends and relatives, to whom he 
had endeared himself in life, and by whom he was 
lamented in death. 

Levi Hanford is dead, but yet he lives ! — lives iu 
the hearts of his children, to whom he has bequeath- 



NARRATIVE. 



49 



oi\ liis spotless 11,11110 — lives in tlie memory ot his 
many accpiaintanoos, wlio 

" Knew him but to love him, 
Who named him but to praise." 

— lives in the pure — tlie brillitint example which 
he has made and left behind him. 




NOTES. 



(1.) Lkvi Hanfoed, Sem., the father of the subject of this me- 
moir, was bjrn ia Norwalk, Conn., in that part of the town 
wliich afterwards becanit; Xew Canaan, on the 4tli day of JIarch, 
1731. He died on the 2lst day of Xoverabar, 1790, at the age 
of 65 years, and was buried in the Congregational Church-yard, 
in New Canaan. 

His wife, whose miiden-nam^ was Rlizab3tli Carter, was born 
in Xorwalli in tlie year 1731, and died on the 7th day of Sep- 
tember, 1776, at the age of 45 years, and was interred in tlie 
same burial-place as her husband. Her father, Ebenezar Carter, 
was born near the village of Norwalk, and was a farmer bv oc- 
cupation. At an early age he moved with his parents to what 
was then called •' The Woods,'' — some four miles distaiit. Th^ 
country was then new, and deer, bears, and other wild animils 
were very plenty. In the latter part of his life he used to amuse 
the chililren and young people by relating to them the events of 
his early childhood, when wild animils would cross his path in 
going to and returning from church. Hj was an active, ener- 
getic man, and was proverbial for his hospitality. He and his 
wife were both buried in New Canaan. 



52 



NOTES. 



(2.) Norwalk, a town in Fairfield Co., Conn., on Long Islanil 
Sound, (>3 miles from Hartford, and 45 miles from Xew York 
City. It has a good trade, and a number of vessels employed in 
coasting. There is a regular communication between this place 
and New York. Old Well is situated a little more than a mile 
from the centre of the town. It received its name from an old 
well, from which, in early times, vessels engaged in the West In- 
dia trade took their supplies of water. ! ~ 

(3.) Rev. Thomas Hasford, according to Cotton Mather, was 
one of the class of ministers, "who not having finished their edu- 
cation at home, came over here to perfect it, before our college 
was come to maturity to bestow its laurels." He was in Scitu- 
ate, Mass., in 1C43, with the Eev. Charles Chauncey, one of the 
most distinguished Puritan divines, with whom he probably 
completed his studies. Mr. Hanford was made a freeman in 
Massachusetts, on the 22d day of May, 1G50, began to preach in 
Xorwalk in 1652, was ordained in 165-4, and died in the year 
1G93, aged about 72 years. He was succeeded by the Rev. Ste- 
phen Buckingham. The widow ol Mr. Hanford died on the 12th 
dav of September, 1730, at the age of one hundred years. 

(4) Captain Isaac Iveeler was born in Wilton, Conn., in the 
year 1755. He was apprenticed to, and learned the tailor's 
trade. On the breaking out of the war, he entered the Conti- 
nental Army as an ensign, and was promoted to Lieutenant, and 
afterwards to Captain, He was with the army at Valley Forge, 
and was at the battle of Red Bank, under Col. Green, and also 
in other engagements. At the end of the war, he went into 
business at Waterford, Saratoga Co., N. Y. He afterwards 
moved to the City of New York, where he opened a merchant 
tailor's store. He received the appointment of City Jlarshall, 
and held at one time the office of Police Justice. He afterwards 



NOTES. 53 

occupied a position in the Custom House, which he retained to 
his death. In the war of ]812,wlien the City of New York was 
in danger of an attack by the British, he volunteered in the vet- 
eran corps of revolutionary soldiers, for thi'ce mouths to jruard 
the Arsenal, and received an appointment in the corps. Though 
he endeavored to discharge his duties with fidelity, the labors and 
exposures of camp life were too much for his years and enfeebled 
constitution. He took a severe cold, which settled upon his 
lungs, and ended in consumption, of which he died in the year 
1S25, in the 71st year of his age. His wife was burned to death 
about three years afterwards, her clothes taking fire while kneel- 
ing in secret prayer. She and her husband were both buried in 
the burial-ground of the church in Market Street, in the city of 
New York, of which church they were both members. 

(5 & G) AVith a view of seizing the military stores and pro- 
visions which the Americans had collected at Concord, 12 miles 
N. W. from Boston, Gen. Gage, on the evening preceding the 
19th of April, 1775, detached from his garrison 800 picked men, 
under the command of Lieut.-Col. Francis Smi(h, of the 10th 
Regiment, and Major John Pitcairn, of the Marines. These 
troops made a rapid march to the place of their destination, iu 
hopes of taking the malcontents by surprise, but, notwithstand- 
ing the precautions which had been taken, the alarm was given 
throughout the country, and the inhabitants flew to arras. Be- 
tween 4 and a o'clock on the morning of the 19th, the advanced 
guard of the Royal troops arrived at Le.xington, where they 
found about fifty or si.xty, or possibly more, of the American 
militia under arms, whom Major Pitcairn ordered to disperse, 
and on their hesitating to obey his command, that officer dis- 
charged his pistol and ordered his soldiers to fire. By the vol- 
ley which ensued, eight of the militia were leftdead on the ground, 
ten were wounded, and the remainder dispersed. The troops 



54 NOTES. 

then proceeded to Concord, sis miles further, where thfTdeptrny- 
ed a portion of the stores of the insurgents, and then cfmimnxed 
retreating towards Boston. They were not, however, permitted 
to make this retrogade mOTemrnt without molestation. Before 
they left Concord, they were attacked by the A merit an militia 
and minute-men whom they had provoked, and \\l:o accunnilated 
by degrees, harrassed their rear and flanks, takirg advantage of 
every inequality of gronnd, and especially availirg thin'selves of 
the stone walls which .skirted the road, and which served them as 
intrenchmenls. Had not the detachment been n tt i.t Lexington 
by a brigade of about 1,000 men with two pi- ces of cannon 
which Gen. Gage had sent out to its support, uiidrr the com- 
mand of Lord Percy, it would certainly have been cut oft', or 
forced to surrender. The L'nited British forces arrived, wearied 
and exhausted at Bunker Hill near Boston, a little after sunset, 
having not only lost their baggage wagons, but sustained a loss 
of about 65 killed, 180 wounded, and 28 missing. Among the 
wounded was Lieut.-Col. Smith, the commander of the detach- 
ment. Some of the soldiers were so much exhausted with fa- 
tigue that they were obliged to lie down on the ground, their 
tongues hanging out of their mouths like dogs after a chase. 
The Americans had about 50 killed. 34 wounded and 4 missing. 
Intelligence of the battle spread rapidly through the Colonies, 
and excited everywhere feelings of mingled exultation, sorrow 
and rage. The mechanic left his work-shop and the farmer his 
plough, and seizing their arms, they resolved to avenge the 
death of their murdered countrymen. 

Gordon's Amer. War, Vol. I, p. 476. 

(7) In the yetn' 177.T, the project was conceived of surprising 
Ticonderoga, a fortified post on the western shore of Lake Cham- 
plain, and commanding the eiitrace into Canada. This design 
was communicated -to Col. Athan Allen, who, in conjunction with 



NOTES. 55 

Col. Benedict Arnolil, accoidinglj- proceeded to Ticcndcroga, and 
the remainder of the party to Slicensbo'-ough. Sentinels liad 
been previously stationed on all ibc roads to prevent tlie passing 
of any intelligence. On tlie 9th day of May, about eighty, all that 
the boats could carry, crossed the lal<c and landed near ihe gar- 
rison. The two Colonels advanced along side of each other, and 
entered the gateway leading to the fort, by the grey of the morn- 
ing. A sentinel snapped his fusee at Col. Allen and then retreat- 
ed. The main body of the Americans then followed and drew 
np. Capt. De la Place, the Commander, was surprised in bed, 
and compelled to surrender the place. AVhen the remainder of 
the party arrived, they were despatched under Col. Seth AVarner, 
to take po.=session of Crown Point, and Arnold, hastily manning 
a schooner, sailed to capture a sloop-of-war lying at the outlet of 
the lake. These two e.xpeditions, as well as that against Skeens- 
borough, were successful, and thus was obtained, without blood- 
shed, the command of those important posts, togetiier with more 
than 100 pieces of cannon, besides small arms, and other muni 
tions of war, with stores, i*tc. The unexpected news of this bril- 
liant success imparted high courage and animation to the Ameri- 
cans. :iiid caused great joy and exultation. 

Gordon's Araer. AVar., vul. If, p. 11. 

(8) Etii.w Ai.i.kx was born in Connecticut in 1 T.S^, and moved in 
early lift to Vermont. He distinguishtd himself in the contro- 
versy in 1T70 between the inhabitantsof that State and the gov- 
ernment of Xew Yoi'k,and was declared by the latter an outlaw. 
At the commencement of the Revolution, he, with the inhabi- 
tants of Vermont, took a vigorous j)art in resisting the British. 
In May, 177.5, at the head of a small party, he surprised and 
captured Ticondcroga. In the autumn of that year he went 
several times into Canada, to ascertain the disposition of the 
people, and endeavor to attach them to the cause of the Colonies. 



56 NOTES. 

Ill an attempt to take Montreal, at the head of a small body of 
troops, he was captured and sent to England. After a long and 
severe coutinement, he was at length exchanged and returned to 
Vermont, and was appointed to command the militia of that 
State with the rank of Brig.-Gen., but was not called to any 
important service. He was a man of gigantic size, and possess- 
ed great strength. He had a strong mird, indomitable will and 
courage, but was without the polish of education. In his relig- 
ious opinions he was a Deist. He died in Colchester on Feb 13, 
1789, aged 51 years. 

(9) The name of" Green ^lountain Boys" was applied to those 
persons who resided within the limits of the Green Mountains in 
Vermont. They were a brave and hardy race of men, and were 
chiefly settlers from New Hampshire, Massachusetts and Con- 
necticut. 

(10) Fearing an intention, on the part of the British, to oc- 
cupy the important heights at Charlestowu and Dorchester, which 
would enable them to command the surrounding country, about 
1,000 men were despatched on the evening of the Kith of June, 
1775, under command of Col. Wni. Prescott, to Bunker Hill, 
with instructions to fortify that position. They were conducted 
by mistake to Breed's Hill, which was nearer to the water and 
to Boston than Bunker's. At 12 o'clock they began to throw 
up entrenchments, aud by dawn of day had completed a redoubt 
about eight rods square. As soon as they were discovered, they 
were fired upon by a sliip-of-war, and several batti.'ries, but the 
Americans, nevertheless, continued to labor until they had nearly 
completed a slight breastwork extending eastward to the water. 
In the morning they received a reinforcement of five hundred 
men. The British were astonished and incensed at their temerity, 
and determined to drive them off. Accordingly, about noon, a 



XOTES. 57 

boily of 3.00(1 regulars cniniiiumlwl ]iy Sir AYilliara JIowo, left 
Boston in boats, ami laniKl in Cliarlestown, at the extreme point 
orthc peninsula, where they formed and marched slowly up the 
hill. The Americans reserved their fire until the British were with- 
in ten or twelve rods of the redoubt, when, taking' steady aim, 
they poured an incessant discharge upon them, doing great exe- 
cution, and causing them to retreat in haste and disorder down' 
the hill. Being stimulated by their officers, the British again 
formed in line, and were again induced to ascend. The Ameri- 
cans now reserved their fire until the enemy had approached even 
nearer than before, when a tremendous volley was at once pour- 
ed among them, causing tbem to retreat with precipitation even 
to their boats. So great was the carnage, and such the panic, 
that Gen. IIowc was left almost alone on the hill side, his troops 
having deserted him, and nearly every officer around him being 
Ivilled. At this moment. Gen. Clinton arrived with a reinforce- 
ment, and by his exertions the troops were a third time rallied 
and were impelled forward by their officers, who marched behind 
them with drawn swords. The fire from the ships and batteries 
was now redoubled, and a few cannon had been so placed as to 
rake the breastwork from end to end. The Americans having 
exhausted their scanty supply of ammunition, defended themselves 
for a short time with the butt end of their muskets, but were soon 
compelled to retire from the unequal contest. This they did with 
the order and regularity almost of veterans. The British had 
suflered too severely to pursue them, and merely took possession 
of the hill. The British lost about 1,054 killed and wounded. 
Among the killed was Maj. Pitcairn, who was in the expedition 
to Concord and Lexington. The loss of the Americans was 
about 453 killed, wounded and missing. Among the killed was 
Gen. Warren, a man of marked ability and standing, whose death 
was deeply deplored. The Americans were commaudcd by Col. 
Vi'm. Prescott, of Pcppercl, an officer of great prudence and of 



58 NOTES. 

most determined bravery. Though the Americans were com- 
pelled to 3'ield the ground for want of ammunition, yet their de- 
feat was substantially a triumph. Their conduct was such as 
effectually wiped away the reproaches of cowardice which had 
been cast upon them by their enemies in Britain. Though raw 
militia, yet they had twice repulsed the flower of her army and 
broken the charm of their invincibility. The news spread far 
and wide, and the result of the engagement tended greatly to in- 
crease the confidence of the Americaus in their own powers, and 
impressed them with the idea that they were specially favored by 
heaven. Though grieved at the death of their countrymen, yet 
the joyful e.xultation of the Americans was such as well became 
the occasion that called it forth. 

Gordon's Amer. 'War, Vol. II, p 39. 

(11) Capt. John Carter was born in the parish of Xew Ca- 
naan, Conn., and was a man of property and influence, and a 
strong friend to his country. He .served for a time as captain of 
a comjiany, and was engaged in some adventures and skirmishes. 
In the month of January, 1780, he commanded a party, which in 
conjunction with another party, under Capt. Lockwood, made a 
midnight attack upon Col. Hatfield at Morrisania. The affair 
was a brilliant one on the part of the Americans, resulting in 
the capture of Col. Hatfield, besides one captain, one lieutenant, 
one quarter-master, and eleven privates. Captain Carter lived 
to an advanced age. He resided after the war in New Canaan, 
and died there respected and beloved. His remains were inter- 
red in the church-yard at IS'ew Canaan. 

(12) CowBovs. This term was applied in the Eevolution to an 
infamous clasj of persons who lived between both armies in a 
dubious character, being as often in one camp as in the other. 
Their occupation was smuggling goods and thieving when op- 



.VOTES. 59 

portunity artonlod. 'I'hi'ii- in-uinnsity for stealing: "as chiefly 
exerciswl on cattle and otliei live stock, IVoni whieli eii-cumstance 
they ileiiveJ their name. 

(13) Maj.-Ge.v. CiiARLK.s Lke w;xs a native of Wales. He en- 
teral the army at an cai-ly age, and served under (jen. Aber- 
crombie, in America, in the campaign of IT JH. and four years 
after under Gen. Burgoyne in Portugal, where he held a colonel- 
cy. In the year 1773 he came to America, and settled in Vir- 
ginia. On the commencement of the Revolution in 177.i, he was 
appointeil Major-Geueral, and repaired with (ien. AVashington to 
the army at Cambridge. He remained there tili the following 
year, when he was ordered to New York to fortify that place, 
and discharged the duty with great promptness and energy. 
After this he commanded the Southern forces for a while. In the 
month of October, 1770, he rejoined the army under Washington, 
and was soon after captured by the British, and remained a pri- 
soner in their hands till the spring of the year 1778, when he was 
released and returned to his command. At the battle of Jlon- 
mouth he was entrusted with a division, and for disobedience of 
orders, and disrespect to the Commander-in-Chief, on that occa- 
sion, he was suspended from his command, and retired to privati! 
life. He lived on his farm in Virginia till the year 1782, when 
he moved to I'hiladelphia, and died soon after, apparently of cha- 
grin and mortification, at the loss of his reputation, on the 'Ind 
day of October, 1782, at the age of 55 years. He was remarka- 
ble for his ability as a writer and for his eccentricity. His mili- 
tary talents were, however, very much overrated. 

(14) Governor's Island was known to the Indians by the name 
of Pagganck, and Ity the Dutch was called Nooten Kylandt. or 
Nutting or Nut Island, on account of the abundance of hazel and 
other nut trees which grew upon it, furnishing the winter's supply 



60 NOTES. 

to tlie citizens. It was called Governor's Island because it was 
always regarded asa perquisite attached to the office of Governor 
of the province of New York, and it was cultivated in gardens 
for their use. Governor Keift had a plantation on the island 
which he leased for 150 lbs. of tobacco per year. 

The island, it is said, was originally so near to Red Hook main 
land, that cattle crossed the channel to and fro, at low water. 
Governor's Island was formerly a part of Long Island, being 
joined to it by a low, intervening morass and a small dividing- 
creek. The widening and deepening of the Buttermilk Channel 
has been caused by the filling in of the south side of the city. 

During the Revolution it was fortified with other islands in 
the bay of New York, at the time that the City of New York 
was in anticipatioQ of an attack from Sir William Howe, just 
after the evacuation of Boston. The island was ceded to the Uni- 
ted States by an act of the Legislature of New York, passed Feb. 
15, 1800. The grant, however, reserved the right of executing pro- 
cess under the authority of this State. The island is now used solely 
as a military station of the U. S. Army, and is extensively forti- 
fied, and it is supposed would prove of great importance to the 
defense of the harbor. Its contiguity to the southern part of 
New York island, makes it an important place of defense, though 
no fortifications were erected upon it in the early colonial era. 
It contains about 120 acres of ground, and was at one time used 
as a race-course. 

(15) Capt. Seth Seymour commanded a company of cavalry 
during the Revolution, and did considerable service to his coun- 
try in the course of the war, chiefly in guarding property, and in 
protecting the sea-coast. He resided in the town of New Canaan, 
and died there. 

(IG) The names of the guard who were taken prisoners with 



NOTES. til 

llanforj, on the KJtli day of .March, 1777, were 'Wii'rlit Everett, 
Jouathau Raymoiul, Samuel Hucsted, Ebenezer Uovt, James 
Iloyt, Jonathan Kelloifg, James Trowbridge, Matthias Com- 

stoek, Gideon St. Jolni, Jarvis, and two others. Avhose 

names cannot, at this time, be ascertained, They all died in 
prison, most of them with tiie sniall-po.\, Ebenezer Iloyt and 
Ilanl'ord being the only ones who lived to be exchanged. Lieut. 
J. B. Eeels. the commander of tlie guard, was taken prisoner, but 
was soon paroled and went home. 

The guard were stationed at a hotel kept by Capt. Samuel 
Richards. "Wlien they were taken prisoners, Capt. Rieluirds was 
taken also. The Tories were so embittered against him tliatthey 
put him in irons. When the irons were put on his wrists, they 
were so hot that the flesh fairly crisped and smoked under the 
heat. The blacksmith begged the Tories to let him cool t.iem, 
but a Mr. Smith, one of the Tories and a former townsman of 
Ilichards, exclaimed, "Put them on— it is good enough for the 
d — d rebel — let him have it." To this Richards replied — " They 
are rathir u-arin, but I can bearlhcin." 

Mr. Richards was subsequently released ou parole, but he vow- 
ed vengeance on Smith if he ever met liim. At the close of the 
war. Smith went with other Tories to Kova Scotia for a place of 
refuge, but eventually lound his way back to his old home. For 
a while he kept himself concealed, and when he went out, ventur- 
ed cautiously, carefully keeping himself out of the way of Rich- 
ards. Richards, however, soon ascertained his wherealjouts, and 
preparing himself for the interview, he went to Smith's hiding- 
place, and took him away and settled the matter to his full satis- 
faction. IIuw it was adjusted was never known, further than 
that Smith was not to be seen for a long time afterwards. Nei- 
ther of the parties would ever give any information in regard to 
the matter, or as to the mode of settlement, but Richards always 



62 NOTES. 

expressed himself satisfied, and Smith appeared to be very glad 
that the affair was ended. 

At the time of the capture of the guard, there was another 
party taken prisoners with them. This party consisted of Cap- 
tain Smith, Lieut. Brainard, a d Ensign Bradford. They had 
been in the service at Horseneck, and their term of duty expired 
on the 14th. They were discharged on the 13th, and on their 
way home stopped at Richard's Hotel to stay all night. They 
were taken with the guard, but were eventually released on 
parole. 

(17) HuxTixGTOx, a town of Suffolk Co., Long Island, 45 miles 
from New York City. 

(IS) Fi.rsnixG, a town of Queen's County, Long Island, about 
nine miles from New York City. It has a considerable trade, 
and its situation is pleasant and healthy. It was settled in 1G44 
principally by a company of Englishmen, who had beeu residents 
of Vissengcn. or Flushing, in Holland. 

(19) The Middle Dutch Church was erected upon ground pur- 
chased by the Consistory in the year 172G, of Mr. David Jamison, 
for the sum of £575, or about §1,900. The church was opened 
for divine service in the year 1729, and was used for that purpose 
until the occupation of the city by the British, when it was first 
used as a prison and afterwards as a riding-school for the British 
cavalry. The whole interior of the church was destroyed, leaving 
nothing but the bare walls and roof. In this desecrated condition 
the building remained until the year 1788, when repairs were 
commenced upon it. In the month of July, 1790, it was again 
re-opened for public worship, on which occasion the Rev. Dr. 
Livingston preached an interesting discourse. The last sermon 
preached in the church was on the 11 th day of August, 1844. 



NOTES. 63 

'I'lic Ijiiildiiig was tlieii Icasoil to the General Government for a 
rost-Ollice, and is still ooenpicil for that purpose. It was in the 
old wooden steeple of this church that Dr. Franklin practised his 
experiments in electricity. 

(20) TiiK SiGAR HoisK in Liberty, formerly Crown Street, N. 
Y., was founded in the year lG8l),aiid was u.~ed as a su>;ar rclinery 
until the year 1776, when it was converted by the JJritish, who 
then hold possession of the city, into a place of confinement for 
American prisoners. After the Revolution the business of sugar 
refining was again resumed, and continued until about the month 
of June, 1840, when the old prison was demolished, and upon its 
site was erected a block of brick buildings, now used as stores 
and private offices. 

(21 A: 22) The first meeliiig-house, it is said, which was erected 
in the City of New York, by the Quakers, was built in Green 
Street Alley, between Liberty Street and JIaiden Lane, about 
the year 1706. It was afterwards moved to Liberty Street, and 
in the year 1802, was rebuilt and enlarged. It was a plain, sub- 
stantial liuildiug, and stood a little back of the street, on the 
north side. It was used as a place of meeting, and the grounds 
attached as a place of burial until after the Yellow Fever of 
1822. In the month of October, 182G. the premises were pur- 
chased by Grant Thorburn. Es<|., and in the month of December 
following, the ground all around and under the meeting-house, 
was trenched to the depth of seven feet. The bones were care- 
fully collected, packed in neat bo.xes, and deposited in a cemetery 
out of town. In removing the bones, some interesting relics were 
discovered, among which was a leg and thigh-bone, each of which 
measured two inches more than any others found there, though 
there were a great number. They were evidently part of the 
skeleton of a giant. The building was occupied by Mr. Thorburn 



64: NOTES. 

as a seed-store and deiDOt for plants until the year 1835, when the 
premises were sold by him for building purposes. The old meet- 
ing-house was demolished on the 10th day of September, 1835, 
and upon its site was erected a row of buildings now used as 
stores and offices. 

In the year 1775, the Society ot Friends erected a meeting- 
house in Pearl Street, on the east side, between Cherry and Oak. 
It was a brick building. 4oxGS, and covered about 3,264 feet 
square. It was taken down in the year 1824, and stores and 
dwelling houses were erected in its place. 

These two meeting-houses were both used as hospitals by the 
British during the Revolution. 

Mr. W. B. Hanford believes that the " Quaker Meeting Hos 
pital," in which his father wa,s confined, was the one located in 
Pearl Street. In regard to the location of the building used as 
the " Small-Pox Hospital," he is less positive. It may have been 
the meeting-house in Liberty Street, or perhaps have been the 
First Presbyterian Church in Wall Street, near Broadway, 
■which, it is said, was also used as a ho.spital. He is, however, 
not at all certain on this point. 

(23) The object of beating the drums at the whipping of the 
sentinel, was not for the purpose of disgracing him, as is usually 
the case when the " Rogue's March" is played, but to drown the 
screaches and groans of the tortured criminal. It answered like- 
wise as a call, to bring together the regiment to witness the exe- 
cution of the sentence upon the prisoner. 

(24) The Prison Ship Good Intent, on her voyage from Eng- 
land, had been cast upon the rocks at Halifax, whereby she had lost 
part of her keel. Being unfit for further sea service, she was con- 
verted into a prison ship. She required the daily use of her 
pumps to keep her afloat.J 



XOTES. 65 

(25) The Jersey Prison Ship was originally a British shi[i 
of the line. She was ratpil and registered as a (ift. littHmd4ii««l- 
ULJiiOHHKHWt-srwi?. lla'vin;;' become old and decayed, she was, 
at 01' near the coninienccnient of the Revolution, dismantled, and 
soon after moored in the East river, at New York, and used as a 
store ship. She was afterwards fitted up as a pri.son ship, and 
uswl as such to the termination of the war. In the year 1T83, 
the prisoners then on board of her were released, and she was 
abandoned where she lay. Her rotted hulk could be seen at low 
tide for about thirty years afterwards. The mortality on these 
prison ships was almost incredible. As many as 11,500 are said 
to have perished on board of them. The remains of those who 
died in them were slightly buried on the Long Island shore, and 
the ebbing of the tide often uncovered them, and exposed their 
whitened bones to view. They were shamefully neglected for 
many years. In the year 1808, the bones were collected and 
placed in thirteen coffins, and interred by the Tammany Society 
in a vault in Jackson Street, Brooklyn, presented for that pur- 
pose by the late John Jackson, Esq. A grand imposing proces- 
sion honored the performance of this last tribute to them. 

(2Cj The Brick Meeting House was erected in the year 1767, 
It was constructed of brick, and received its name from that cir- 
cumstance. The celebrated Whitfiehl is said to have been heard 
preaching there upon one occasion. The building was S3 feet 
long by G5 wide, and had a lofty spire. The ground on which it 
was erected was granted to the church by the corporation of the 
city, in 1767. There were vaults under the church and in the 
ground surrounding it, and there was a session room in the rear. 
In the Revolution the church was used by the British, first as a 
prison and then as a hospital. It was demolished in the year 
1856, and upon its site was erected the elegant edifice known as 
the " Times Buildinp:." 



66 NOTES. 

(27) "On a hiah hill- near where Franklin Street now is. on 
the east side of Broadway, there formerly stood a water basin, 
built before the Revolution, for supplying the city with water. 
Nearly opposite the water basin, on the west side of Broadway, 
stood an old fort, built of earth, which had been used during the 
Revolutionary war. On the outside of this fort, on the slope of 
the hill, were buried many of the American prisoners of war, who 
had died in the old Sugar House in Liberty Street, then Crown 
Street, or in the North Dutch Church in William Street, both 
of which were used as prisons by the British. These Ixidies were 
buried so near the surface, that by the slight washing of the hill 
their bones were exposed, and many a time, when a boy. have I 
seen their remains pulled out and abused by my thoughtless com- 
panions — as late as 1800." 

Cozzens' Geology of New York Island, page 22. 

Mr. Onderdonk, in speaking of the old Sugar House in Liberty 
Street, at the time when it was used as a prison, says : " For 
many weeks the dead-cart vibited the prison every morning, into 
which eight or twelve corpses were flung and piled up, like sticks 
of wood, and dumped into ditches in the outskirts of the city." 

Onderdonk's Rev. Incidents of Suffolk and Kings Uoanties, p. 203. 

Mr. Jonathan Gillette, a native of West Hartford, Conn., who 
died on the 14th day of March, 1855, aged 93 years, was a pri- 
soner in the Sugar House in Liberty Street, in the year 1780, 
and was confined there for ten months. He says, " Almost every 
day the corpse of one, and sometimes five or six were carried out 
for burial. They were conveyed to the Bowery, near the Fresh 
Water Pump, where they wore interred." 

The place where Mr. Hanford witnessed the burial of the pri- 
soners, was not in anv church-vard, but was in the trenches of 



NOTES. (57 

the fortifications, which had been made by the Amiricans pie- 
viou3 to the evacuation of New York, in the year 177G, in what 
was then considered the upper part of the city. It was sonu- 
wiiere in the neighborhood of where Grand Street now is, but 
may not have been quite so high up. The city was dug full o 
trenches, in and around it, and into these the prisoners were 
thrown, and were scarcely furnished earth, much less coffins for 
their burials. The British did not dig graves for the prisoners, 
and hence were not usually inclined to bury them in church-yards 
or regular burying places, but threw them in wherever it was 
convenient. The mode of burial of those who died in the prison 
ships is well known. The remains of those who died in the pri- 
sons on land were not more favored than they. During the oc- 
cupation of the city by the British, much mortality prevailed 
among the troops, and the burials said to have been made in 
Trinity Church yard, were probably those of British soldiers, or 
from the Tory regiments. Mr. llanford had no knowledge of 
any American prisoners having been buried there by the British, 
and always scouted at the idea. Having been a prisoner for 
fourteen months, ho certainly would have known if such had been 
the fact. When the troubles with England commenced, the 
Episcopal Churches almost unanimously took sides with the mo- 
ther country, and were friends of the British, and when the City 
of New York was taken possession of, they were recognized as 
loyal branches of the Established Church of England, and as such 
were protected from profanation, while the churches of other de- 
nominations were converted into store-houses, hospitals, prisons, 
riding-schools, and even stables for Briiish cavalry. The British 
being in possession of the Episcopal grounds, they were not at 
all likely to desecrate them by making them the receptacle of the 
rebel dead. They were not likely to honor or favor those, re- 
garded as criminals and outlaws by a burial in consecrated ground 
whom, while living, they had starved and ill treated, and whom 



68 NOTES. 

thej liai.1 allowed to lauguisli and die in vile, pestilential jirisons. 
Tlje cluirclies themselves were opposed to such burials. They did 
not want their grouuds filled with the bodies of those who, while 
living, were in open rebellion not only against their king, but also 
the Established Church. Under these circumstances, the British 
certainly would not select such spots ■when the wl.ole city was 
open before them, and would by no means be a])t to pay tlie fee 
for interring bodies there, when they could be buried elsewhere 
for nothing. If a prisoner had Tory influence enough to insure 
his intr -meut there, the same influence would have insured his 
release from captivity, and from the treatment and mode of life 
which caused or accelerated his decease. 

Moreover, Mr. Inglis, the pastor of the church, was himself a 
bitter Tory, and took an active and decided part, as is well 
known, and as the records of the church will show. He would 
have raised both hands against any such desecration. His pray- 
ers for the king were vehement and unceasing, and he refused to 
omit t. m even during the pr sence of Washington himself at 
the church, although previously requested so to do by one ol' that 
General's own ofhcers. Would he, who refused this civility to a 
member and a communicant of the church, be at all likely to 
grant an Episcopal burial to a prisoner confined for being a 
rebel, and wlio died firm and unshaken in liis defection ? Those 
noble patriots, those suflering martyrs were not so favored. No 
soothing words consoled their dying hours ; no tones of pity soft- 
ened their afflictions, and it may well be believed that no Episco- 
pal services attended their remains to their place of interment. 

The remains which are said to have been discovered in e.xcava- 
tino- the sround for the erection of the monument to the Martyrs, 
appearing to have been hastily and promiscuously^mtwc, and 
without coffins, were probably the remains of paupers, for that 
ground was used as a Potter's Field for many years before the 
Revolution— in fact as earlv as 1703 or 1704. When the Brit- 



NOTES. Ii!) 

ish held possession ol the city, tlioyliiul lull control orcvciTthinpr, 
ami is it not natnnil that they would have protected IVoni dese- 
cration the grounds eontaininj^ their own friends and relatives. 
and aronnds attached to and belongini; to their own Established 
Churrh ? f Would not their viirilanee after the destruction of the 
s>i<iy,liy fire, in 1770, have Iteen still sreater than before ? If the 
grounds were then left more open and exposed, is it at all proba- 
ble that they would have been less guarded and protected ? But 
one conclusion, therefore, remains, which is, that the remains of 
those found there trillioul coffins were the remains of paupers, 
while those found there wilh coiTins were not the relics ol prison- 
ers, for they were unilbriidy buried without them, and in places 
not consecrated, and not in the heart of the city, but at nidi 
distances from it as would prevent the residents from being in- 
fected by the effluvia arisin;^ from their half-covered bodies while 
in course of decomposition. During' the discussion of these ques- 
tions, some years ago, Mi-. Hanlbrd was referred to, and he al- 
ways contended that no prisoners were interred by the British 
in the grounds of that church during the Revolution. 

It has been said that the Xegro burying ground on the site of 
Stewarts marble store, corner of Broadway and Chambers .Street, 
and the Jews' burial-ground, on the location now known as 
Chatham Square, were used as places of interment for American 
prisoners. .Such might have been the case, for the British des- 
piscil the .Jews ami their religion, ancl had no respect whatever 
for either of those burial-places, and if they buried any prisoners 
in either of those localities, they did so with the intention of 
casting a stigma upon them, for they no doubt considered any 
such interments maile by them as an indignity and disgrace. 

Before putting this note in type, 1 sent the manuscript to W. 
B. Ilanford, Ksq., for inspection, and with its return received 
from him the following letter, which 1 take the liberty to ap- 
pend : — 



10 NOTES. 

" Franklin, N. T., Sept. 21, 1863. 
Chas. J. EnsHNELL, Esq , 

My Dear Sir ; — Your fnvor of the 14t.h instant is before 
me. * * I bare examined the manuscript enclosed, but have no altera- 
tions to suggest. It is, I think, correct as it stands, and will give a just 
view of the facts in relation to the claim of Trinity Church to the honor of 
furnishing a recept.icle for deceased prisoners, and will entitle you to the 
gratitude of the public for setting the matter right before them. 
Tours, in Fraternal Regards, 

Wm. B. Hanford.-' 

(28) The surrender of General Burgoyne took place at Sara- 
toga on the 17th day of October, llll. It was the cause of 
great rejoicing on the part of the Americans, who justly con- 
sidered it as an event having a most important bearing upon the 
result of the contest between the Colonies and the mother coun- 
try. The brass artillery captured from Burgoyne at various 
times during the campaign, amounted to forty-two pieces, consti- 
tuting one of the most elegant trains ever brought into the field ; 
five thousand stand of arms ; six thousand dozen cartridges, and 
a number of ammunition wagons, traveling forges, shot, carcasses, 
shells, &c., &c., also fell into the hands of the Americans. The 
whole number of troops sLrrendered by the convention, amounted 
to five thousand seven hundred and ninety two, which, added to 
the number killed, woumled and captured, in the various actions 
previous to the 17th of October, amounting to near 5.000, makes 
Burgoyne's total loss upwards of ten thousand men. He also 
lost a number of his best officers, among whom were Gen. Fraser 
and Colonel Breyman. The American army, including 2,500 
sick, amounted to 13,200 men. 

The thanks of Congress were voted to Gcncal Gates and his 
army, and a medal of gold, emblematic of the occasion, was pre- 
sented to him — honors which though bestowed upon him, pro- 
perly belonged and ought in justice to have been awarded to 



X0TE3. 7 1 

Generals Arnold ami .Afoiijan. who were the real actors and 
heroes of the ali'uir, ami without whose aid altogether difTerciit 
results might have followed. 

General Burgoyuc returned to England in the month of May, 
1777, where he met with a very cool reception, and was denied 
admission to the presence of his sovereign. He was even ordered 
immediately to repair to America as a prisoner, but the ill state 
of his health prevented compliance. At length he was permitted 
to vindicate his character. Soon after this, he resigned his 
emoluments from government, amounting to the sum of §15,000 
a year. Towards the close of the year 1781, when a majority of 
Parliament seemed resolved to persist in the war, ho joined in 
the opposition, and advocated a motion for the discontinuance of 
the fruitless contest. He knew that it was impossible to conquer 
America. From the establishment of peace to the time of his 
death, he lived as a private gentleman, devoted to pleasure and 
the niu?es. lie pulilishcd a "Letter to his Constituents," "State of 
the Expedition from Canada," and some plays which were once 
very popular, and are considered respectable compositions. Bur- 
goyne was an elegant writer. He died Iiy a fit of the gout, on 
the 4th day of August, 1792, and nine days after was privately 
buried in the cloisters of Westminster Abbej'. 

(29) Sergeant Wally was the assistant of AVilliara Cunning- 
ham, the Provost Marshal. Both of these men were remarkable 
for their cruelty and inhumanity to the American prisoners, al- 
lowing no occasion to pass that attbrded them an opportunity to 
exercise their barbarity. After the war they went to England, 
and it is said that they both eventually lost their lives upon the 
scaffold. A confession, said to have been made by Cunningham, 
in which he acknowledges himself the perpetrator of numerous 
coldblooded murders during his official career, was published 



12 NOTES. 

many years ago. The names of these two iiioii will bo haiulod 
down from age to age witli umlying infamy. 

A gentleman, of this city, now in the 89tli year of his age, 
who was present at the evacuation of New Y(M-k by the British, 
in 1783, informs me that lie lived at that time at the lower end 
of Murray Street, on the north side of the street. Opposite his 
residence was a tavern kept by a Mr. Day. An American flag 
had been l)oisted from the tavern before twelve o'clock, the time 
appointed for the Americans to enter the city, and Cunningliam, 
incensed at the premature display, came there to pull it down. 
He was met at the door of the tavern by Mrs. Day, a stout, 
athletic woman, very loyal in her sentiments, who refused him 
admittance, and upon his attempting to force his way into the 
house, a scuffle ensued between them, in which slie boxed his ears 
warmly, made the powder fly from his hair, and caused him to 
beat a hasty retreat, amid the jeers and laughter of some few 
spectators who were present at the scene. My informant fur- 
ther says that Cunningham was a ruddy-faced Irishman, nearly 
if not quite si.\ leet in stature. Fie wore his hair tied in a 
cue, with powdered bat- wings over his cars. He wore light- 
colored knee-breeches, and his manner was that of a coarse, inso- 
lent and iniperiou!< frllow. 

(30) EisKNRZKR IJoYT was A mcnibcr of the same company of 
cavalry with Levi Flauford, both being under the command of 
Capt. Seth Seymour. lie was taken prisoner with Mr. Ilanford, 
and was conlined with him in the Sugar House, and they were the 
only survivors of the party that was captured. They were liber- 
ated together and returned home in conii)any. After regaining 
his health, Mr. Iloyt again joined the company with Ilanford, 
and continued in the performance of his duty to the end of the 
war. He lived to an advanced age, and died where he had al- 
ways lived, in the town of New Canaan. 



.VOTES. 73 

(31) Em/.vhkthtohn. a town in Essex Counly, X. J, fifteen 
miles S. W. of Xew York City. It is a very thriving place, and 
has considerable sliipping'. 

(32) Xewauk, a cily and seat of justice of Essex Co., N. J., on the 
Passjiic. .si.K miles from Eliza bet luown, and nine from Xew York 
City. It is handsomely situated, and is particularly noted for 
producinir cider of a superior quality. It is likewise celebrated 
for its numerous manuluctHrcs, au.oug wliicli arc carriages, sad- 
dlery and harness, boots and shoes, coach lace, chairs, cabinet 
aud |)lated-ware. Its population in 18-18 was 30,(100. 

(33) PoBus' Ferhy is situated ou the Hudson river, twenty- 
two miles X. of New York, and opposile the northern termina- 
tion of the Palisades. It was a noted placed during the Revolu- 
tion. 

(34) While ILinford was in prison, his father obtained per- 
mission for a flag of truce in.order that he might procure the re- 
lease of his son by exchange for a British officer. On examining 
the roll of prisoners, it was found that Ltin San font had died in 
prison .some lime before. The flag of truce, taking this to mean 
Lci-i Ilaiifonl. reported hi.s death to his friends. This led to the 
ceremonies and mourning that followed, and caused a su.spension 
of all further eflbrts towards his release. 

(35.) The burning of Norwalk took place in the month of 
Julv, 1779. The land forces of the British consisted of about 
2,600 men, and were assisted by a. fleet of forty armed vessels. 
The land forces were inider the command of Gen. Tryon, assisted 
by Gen. Garth, an olTieer of distinguished ability. The troops 
were landed at New Haven, where they encountered considerable 
opposition from the inhabitants and militia. After destroying 



1i NOTES. 

the fort which protected the place, and all the naval and militarj' 
stores, they proceeded to- Fairfield; where the troops were again 
landed and again opposed. Here the town was set on fire and 
consumed with everything of value. The same desolation took 
place at Norwalk, where the militia were more numerous and 
made greater resistance than at the other places. Here the lo«3 
of the Americans was great; both Norwalk and Greenfield, 
a small town in the neighborhood, were totally destroyed, with a 
considerable number of ships, either finished or on the stocks, 
and a still greater numl.>er of whale boats and small craft, with 
stores and merchandize to a large amount. The furniture of the 
inhabitants was wantonly destroyed, and their plate and other 
articles ol value carried ofl'. One hundred and thirty-two dwell- 
ing houses, meeting-house and church included, eighty-seven barns, 
twenty-two store-houses, seventeen shops, four mills, and five ves- 
sels were burnt, besides the wheat and hay, &c., which had been 

gathered in. 

Lendrum's Am. Kev , Vol. II, p. 253. 
Bouton's Hist. Discourse, p. 48, 

(36) KiKGSBRiDGE is situatcd at the north end of New York 
island, on Spuyten Duyvel Creek, and is distant from the City 
Hall about thirteen miles. The neighborhood was the scene of 
important military operations during the Revolution. 

(37) Hartford, a city and seat ofjustice of Hartford Co., Conn., 
and semi-capital of the State, situated on the Connecticut river, 
110 miles from New York City. 

(38) Fascines are made of brush-wood, with their ends sharpen- 
ed, and are bound together in bundles like sheaves of grain. They 
are used in forming breastworks, being built in fortifications with 
dirt, in such a manner that their sharp ends project. 



NOTES. (0 

(39) Miss Mauy Mkap was the daughter of Col. John Mead, 
and was born at llorsencck. in the town of (Greenwich, State of 
Connecticut, on the lltli day of December, 1759. She was an 
eye-witness to many acts of cruelty and rapine on the part of the 
British during our Revolutionary struggle. Her brother, who 
was an officer in the army, had been taken [jrisoner and was dis- 
charged on parole. He was afterwards exchanged and returned 
to the army, but becoming sick, was sent home on a furlough. 
While he was at liis home, he heard the British approaching the 
house and fled from the back door, and under the protection of 
an orchard, made his way to the fields, where he sprang into a 
thicket and hid himself. While he lay here concealed, a party of 
British Light Horse surrounded the house, and some of them 
coming up to his sister Mary, who had gone to a neighboring 
spring to rinse some clothes, pointed their swords at her breast 
and threatened her with instant destruction, unless she revealed 
the hiding-place of her brother. By her presence of niiud and 
firmness on this occasion, she not only saved her own life but also 
preserved his. 

At another time the house was surrounded by a party of Brit- 
ish Light Horsemen, and one of them struck at her twin-sister 
with his sword, just missing her head, but cutting the casing of 
the door, an inch in thickness, quite in two. The family were 
repeatedly plundered by marauding parties of their clothes and 
other valuable efTects. They would carry off everything of value, 
and what they could not take^away, they would destroy. They 
would even ride into the house, and upset the chairs and tables, 
and hack to pieces with their swords, mirrors, pictures and fur- 
niture. They would rip open the feather beds, and empty into 
the ticks hives of bees with the honey. The family were com- 
pelled to secrete their clothing and valuable effects in the fields 
and other places of security to preserve them from pillage. 

After the termination of the war. Miss Mead was married to 



76 NOTES. 

Levi Hauford. In the year 1809, she and her husband united 
with the Baptist Church in Franklin, Delaware County, X. T.. 
then under the pastoral charge of Rev. Daniel Robertson, and 
to the close of their lives lived in Christian fellowship with the 
church, and evinced by their conduct, in public and private, the 
sincerity of their belief in the religion they professed. Mrs. 
Hanford died at Walton, Delaware County, N. T., on the fif- 
teenth day of September, 1847, in the eighty-eighth year of her 
age, and was buried in the family cemetery at that place. 

(40) Col. John Mead was born in Greenwich, Connecticut, 
in the year 1726, and was a farmer by occupation. Being a very 
fleshy man, his farm labor was mostly performed by his sons and 
hired help. He was at one time connected with the building of 
several vessels, one of which was taken in the early part of the 
Revolution by the British. He was placed early in comnwiKl 
of the American lines at Horseneck, together with an extent of 
sea-coast each way from that place. He had command of a 
regiment, and sent out men by companies, or in smaller detach- 
ments, as he had orders, or as he deemed the public safety de- 
manded. He was with his regiment at the evacuation of the 
City of New York, under General Washington, and his regiment 
was the last to leave the place. The day was a remarkably 
warm and sultry one, and the men suffered greatly from heat and 
thirst, and many of them were sun-struck. Col. Mead remained 
after the regiment had left, and before he had overtaken his men. 
they had retreated to a place of safety. When he entered the 
public house, he found every spot occupied. Even the floor was 
covered promiscuously with ofiicers and men, seeking repose and 
sleep after the labors of the day. Edging his way along, he at 
length found a place, and stretched himself upon the floor among 
them. Incommoding, however, one of his neighbors, by using 
his feet for a pillow, the man remonstrated, when the Colonel 



NOTES. 1 7 

iimiiediiiU'ly apologized. The soldier recognized the voice of 
liis eoiiimander and exclaimed : 

" Why, Colonel Mead — is it you ? God bless you ! Can it be 
possible you arc alive and well ? I really never expected to see 
you again alive after what we have endured. Lie down, Colonel, 
— use my feet for a pillow, and welcome, if you can find any rest 
in such a place." 

On one occasion, while the Colonel Wiis at his home at Horse- 
neck, a party of British and Tories formed a plan to capture him 
for the purpose of exchanging him for one of their officers who 
had been taken by the Americans some time before. The party 
set out from Long Island, and were piloted along by a man who 
had been brought up by the Colonel, and who was dependent 
upon him, and whom he had often befriended. AVhen the Colonel 
saw this man among the party, he at once exclaimed, 

" Eben, I hardly expected such treachery at your hands." 

The only reply he received was, 

" Colonel, you know times have changed." 

The party were pursued but succeeded in effecting their escape 
to Long Island with their prisoner. On their arrival at their 
place of destination, they offered the Colonel a parole, which he 
declined. He was, however, soon after exchanged. 

The farm and residence of Colonel Mead being situated in the 
forepart of the American lines, was a constant place of resort by 
the Tories and Cowboys, who committed so much depredation, 
and annoyed the family to such a degree, that they were finally 
compelled to leave the place and move to New Canaan, some 
fifteen or twenty miles distant, to avoid further persecution. 

At the termination of the war, they returned to their home, 
but found it to be a mere wreck of what it had once been. The 
roofs of the houses had been torn off, the windows broken in, the 
doors and ceilings destroyed, and some of the walls demolished. 
Fences had been pulled down and used for fire-wood, the farming 



N 



78 NOTES. 

utensils and implements had been carried off or destroyed, and 
the stock upon the farm had been killed or driven oif by Cow- 
boys. The Colonel found himself reduced from a good and val- 
uable estate to limited means and straightened circumstances. 
His native State, however, made up for some of his losses, bv a 
grant of a large tract of laud in that part of Ohio, owned at that 
time by Connecticut, and known as the " Connecticut Fire 
Lands." The people of his locality honored him by making him 
their representative to the Legislature for nineteen consecutive 
years, and up to the time of his death. He was also promoted 
to the rank of Brigadier General. 

He died of dropsy in the year 1788, in the sixty-third year of 
his age, and was interred in the burying-ground at Horseneck. 
His wife's maiden-name was Mary Brush. She was of Scotch 
extraction, and was born in Stanwix, a parish of Greenwich, 
State of Connecticut. She died several years prior to the death 
of her husband, at the age of about forty years. 

(41) Horseneck, a village in Fairfield County, Connecticut, 
noted for the defeat of the Indians by the Dutch in the year 
1646. 

[42) Greenwich, a town in Fairfield County, Conn. The 
settlement was begun after it had been purchased of the Indians, 
in 1640, under the Dutch Government at New York, then New 
Amsterdam. In 1665 it was incorporated by Governor Stuyve- 
sant. It was, however, originally purchased for the Colony of 
New Haven by Eoliert Feeks and Daniel Patrick. But the 
purchasers violated their engagements to that Colony, and to- 
gether with the few inhabitants, placed themselves under the gov- 
ernment of New Amsterdam. The settlement went on very 
heavily until the people returned to the jurisdiction of Connecti- 
cut, then including the Colony of New Haven. The Indians 



XOTES. 79 

were hostile to tlie Dutch, and were not very favorably inclined 
towards the inhabitants. " A great and general battle was 
fought between them in that part of Horseneck commonly 
known by the name of Strickland's Plain. The action took 
place in lC-16. and was long and severe, both parties fighting 
with much obstinacy. The Dutch with much difficulty kept the 
field, and the Indians withdrew. Great numbers were slain on 
both sides, and the graves of the dead, for a century or more, 
appeared like a number of small hills." The population in 1850 
was 5,040. 

(43) New Ca.\aa.n, a town of Fairfield County, Conn., incor- 
porated in ISOl. It was originally a parish lying partly in 
Stamford and Xorwalk, and was incorporated as a parish in 
1731. Its business consists chiefly in leather manufacture. Its 
population in 1650 was 2,601. 

(44) The town of Walton in Delaware County, was organized 
about the year 1793. The first frame house erected in the town 
was built by Robert Xorth, who afterwards became the first 
supervisor. There being no saw mills near, the boards and tim- 
ber were floated down the river from Paine's mill at Hobart. 
The wife of 5Ir. North often boasted that she was the first woman 
that ever made a foot-print upon the soil of Walton. The first 
grist-mill was erected in 1793, and the first wedding in the town 
took place in 1790. Many of the early settlers of the town 
emigrated from New Canaan, in Connecticut. The population 
in 1841 w;is aliout 2,0UU. 

Gould's Hist. Delaware County. 

(45) Peter St. Joh.n was born in Norwalk, Conn., about the 
year 1762. Though he was too young to take a part in the 
commencement of the war. vet he rmilered some service to his 



80 NOTES. 

country ueiore us close as a volunteer. He moved to Walton, 
N. Y., in the year 1802 with his family. He became a professor 
of religion, and gave much time and labor to the study of the 
Scriptures. This with a happy commuuication, gave him an in- 
fluence in the Congregational Church to which he belon2:ed, 
which has outlived the man. Early ou his arrival in Walton, he 
was elected Deacon of the church, which oBice he retained to the 
close of his life. He was a farmer by occupation, and possessed 
a competency, and was elected by his townsmen to discharge the 
duties of several public offices. He was in the course of his life 
thehusbaud of three wives, and he was the father of sis sons. 
He lived to an advanced age, and died as he lived, a man respect- 
ed and beloved. 




TO 



M V A N T 1 (I I- A T! I A X F K I K X P 



STUDENTS OF ASIEHUAX HISTORY GF.XKRALI.V 



Ttn^ \TH.LME IS HESPKCTF'.-I.I.V 



OEDICATKD. 



TbrarvoTcongress 



011 800 596 A 



